Brittle
by maestro de la muerte
Summary: Grimmjow and Ichigo are in a stable if relationship, though it hasn't always been smooth sailing. But their relationship will be tested by the arrival of a stranger and the information he brings. Can their love survive, or will Grimmjow's past come back to haunt them in more ways than one. AU, Yaoi, Grimm/Ichi.


**Hello again! Long time no see, eh? A new story should be fun, ne?**

**Disclaimer: The characters belong to Kubo and I'm just borrowing them for company in lonely times :'(**

**Warnings: Story's expected to get pretty dark so watch out. Profanity, Mature themes, Sexual shizz. This chapter's pretty mild though. **

**I have a mildly disturbing fascination with these three and the law (funny because I'm going into law lol) (I hope I meet sexy guyz yo) (but probably not) (is sad)**

**I need a beta if anyone's interested cause reading over my own stuff makes me physically cringe. **

* * *

**Chapter 1 – Rust**

He woke to a gentle breeze fluttering over him, caressing his body and leaving tiny goose-bumps in its wake. Shifting restlessly under the heavy blankets, he tried to sink back into the darkness of sleep but as his senses slowly returned, so did the distractions. The morning sun shone bright through the fluttering curtains, falling straight into his eyes and from outside, the low humming of early traffic as a few unfortunate souls started their day even earlier than he.

But nothing compared to the feeling of the heavy arm draped around his stomach, or the slow even breaths ruffling the short on the side of his neck. The weight and feel of another body in his bed was a welcome sight and he breathed a small sigh of relief as he did every morning. Because, however irrational it might seem after all this time, a tiny part of Ichigo was still afraid that one day, he'd wake up and his lover would suddenly be gone, leaving without a trace as he himself had three years ago. And how he'd regretted that day ever since.

"Grimm…"

The word was a near silent whisper already lost in the air, but, as if he'd heard the quiet worry, the larger man tightened his grip around his partner's hips. And Ichigo, suddenly lost in reminiscence, closed his doe-brown eyes, mind already transported to the fateful night all those years ago when their relationship had still been fresh and every mistake seemed to crack the very foundation of their lives.

Even before they'd solidified their relationship as a romantic one, Ichigo had known that Grimmjow had issues and not ones that could be taken lightly. But he'd been naïve back then, firm in his belief that he had the ability to protect everyone if he just tried hard enough. Grimmjow, though, came with demons he, with his middle-class, suburban upbringing, could hardly understand, let alone fix.

He'd tried though, because no one could ever say that Ichigo Kurosaki was not a strong-willed, determined man. When he set his mind on something, by god he achieved results. But he would also be the first to tell you that he had a bit of a temper problem, and if things did not quite go his way, he became moody and often lashed out.

And when after months, almost a year of almost-dating, Grimmjow still refused to divulge his secrets, Ichigo felt like he'd had enough. How long could he wait for someone who was obviously not taking their relationship seriously? How long, his young and impatient mind asked him, could he wait until Grimmjow was ready for serious commitment? Soon enough, the small furtive kisses wouldn't be enough, were already not enough. He needed so much more, both physically and emotionally.

He still remembered the night it had blown up vividly. Even now he could taste the rain in the air as the open windows blew in gusts of cool air, smell the scent of homemade lasagna he'd made hours ago but which now sat cold and forgotten on the kitchen counter. The dust on the windowsills and the eerie, empty quietness of the house as it waited alongside its occupant.

It was almost 4 in the morning when the heavy lock had turned and a soaked Grimmjow had stepped into the apartment. Heavy feet shuffled in the entryway as Grimmjow tried in vain to be quiet, thinking Ichigo had fallen asleep. He crushed the fleeting thought in his head that wished he'd come home to an empty apartment, no one to question him where he'd been out and about the whole night. But then he reminded himself of the sheer loneliness of coming back to an empty house, and he was glad that now there was someone in his life who made his house into a home to come back to, who turned his bare walls into a sanctuary from the ugliness of the world. And he thought that maybe soon, he would be ready to share the parts of his soul he'd kept locked till now.

Because he knew he was falling for Ichigo, slowly but inexplicably.

And maybe one day, and at this his mind stuttered, he would finally be able to look at his firecracker and call him truly his.

His thoughts ground to a halt when he stepped into the living room, taken aback by the sight of orange hair glowing dully in the pale moonlight. Ichigo was sitting in the corner of the room on a worn armchair he'd salvaged from the trash years ago. But it was his eyes that really gave him pause. Brown eyes that were usually warm and inviting were now cold and distant, levelled at him in an even stare.

Grimmjow's instincts kicked into overdrive, telling him to turn around and leave now because he knew he wouldn't want to hear Ichigo's next words. But he hadn't survived this long by running from his battles so instead, he lifted one lead foot after another until he was standing in the middle of the room.

The silence seemed to stretch around them until it seemed to sink into Ichigo's very bones. There was a heavy weight on his chest that was stopping him from breathing properly and he couldn't seem to form a single coherent thought. But looking at Grimmjow standing there with the same stony stare and the hardness to his jaw that rarely left, all the anger and desperation that he'd been trying to keep back flared forward.

"Do you trust me?"

The question seemed to increase the tension in Grimmjow's body until Ichigo thought he'd snap.

"What kind of question is that?"

Ichigo cocked his head. "A valid one, I think."

"Excuse me?"

The fury bubbled up inside Ichigo with nowhere to go. His lips curled as the insane desire to _hurt_ anyone and anything rushed through him. And the only target he saw right then was Grimmjow.

"No Grimmjow, excuse _you_. How much longer did you think you could string me along in this farce of a relationship?"

"_Farce of a relationship_?" Grimmjow cut off, the first signs of confused anger appearing in his voice. "What the hell's gotten into you Ichigo?"

"Don't you dare bring this back to me, bastard! I'm done with skirting around your issues and trying to make this, _whatever this is, _work at the same time." And now that he'd started, Ichigo found it hard to stop. "I'm done with your trust issues. God, haven't I done enough to earn your trust?"

Grimmjow stilled at the onslaught of words. Quietly, too quietly for Ichigo, he replied. "Of course you have."

"Then why do I still feel like a stranger with you?"

Blue eyes flashed brightly in the darkness as Grimmjow started to piece together the reasons behind Ichigo's sudden outburst. And for a second, Grimmjow felt a surge of sympathy because he knew how difficult he was to live with. It was a big reason why he'd shied away from any kinds of attachments for so long. But then the anger sparked again, because why couldn't the smaller man see that he was trying his hardest – that he'd held his demons close for so long it felt _wrong_ just bringing them up.

"You feel what you choose to feel, Ichigo," he murmured after a long pause, knowing the words would cause irreparable damage. But his mind felt like it was under assault from all the different emotions and it was the man he had come to look at as his safe harbour that was evoking them. "You knew full well what you were getting into. Maybe now you realize there are some things in the world you just can't fix, Ichigo…" He whispered the last few words, something inside him hoping the redhead would not hear them.

The air around them grew heavier: with anger, with disappointment, with words that their pride wouldn't let them say and most of all, with a finality that this night was a hurdle their relationship was not likely to come out of unscathed, much less pass.

And suddenly the strength seemed to deflate from Ichigo and he closed his eyes, running a hand through his hair in a tired gesture. "You're right, it's my fault. I jumped into this too fast and I…" His skin tightened over his clenched fist as Ichigo rose from his seat.

"I should leave."

An exhale and then, "…I won't stop you."

* * *

The steam billowed out the small window when Ichigo cracked it open, letting in a burst of scented morning air that Ichigo thoroughly enjoyed on his warm, wet skin. Turning, he walked the couple of steps it took to get to the vanity in their bathroom, leaning over the sink to rub a hand through the moisture covered glass. His hazy reflection peered back at him and he smiled, remembering a couple nights ago when his lover had taken him on this very counter and he'd woken up to find a sweaty outline of his upper body etched into the mirror. Embarrassing to say the least but Grimmjow had enjoyed it, forever immortalizing the scene with his camera.

Speaking of the bastard, Ichigo realized he'd have to hurry if he wanted to get breakfast ready before Grimmjow had to leave for work. Brushing his teeth and running a rough comb through his forever untidy hair, Ichigo stepped into their bedroom, heading straight towards the closet. Rummaging inside he pulled out a pair of his old university sweatpants, ones he'd kept out of pure sentiment even though they were getting pretty ratty.

A rustling behind him made him jump in surprise and he turned to see a head of blue peeking through the covers. He blinked once in confusion. Then glanced at the clock. Then back at their bed. Then back at the clock.

Moving forward silently, he leaned over Grimmjow's sleeping face, mouth curving in mild exasperation. Reaching a hand out, he swept the rumpled covers off in one quick motion, smirking in delight when the larger man instantly groaned and curled up into himself to escape the cold.

"Wake up, you lazy ass. You have work in less than an hour!"

The other man only curled tighter in response, fumbling a hand out to reach the pool of blankets at the foot of the bed. Ichigo just rolled his eyes and pushed the pile off, effectively ruining any chances of Grimmjow reaching them unless he got up.

"Aww, Ichi," came a disgruntled moan. "Why you gotta be so mean?"

The smaller man just rolled his eyes and planted his foot on Grimmjow's chest, prodding him gently. "The bills gotta get paid somehow, babe. And you know Urahara's gonna have your ass if you're late one more time. So hop to it," he said, beginning to turn away, when a hand shot out and grasped his retreating leg. Before he knew it, he was pulled forward in a smooth move, landing underneath a grinning Grimmjow.

There was a moment of silence as Ichigo got his bearings back.

"You're…on top of me."

"That's not the first time I've heard you say that."

Ichigo smacked his lover for that, cheeks staining in a fiery blush. Even after years of interacting with some of the most perverted people this side of the planet, including his boyfriend, Ichigo still flared up like a tomato at the smallest sexual innuendo. Something his friends regularly exploited. And something Grimmjow exploited the most.

The man in question leaned down to nuzzle his cheek playfully and Ichigo finally acquiesced with a tiny huff. His arms wrapped around Grimmjow in a loose embrace as his lover planted tiny kisses down a smooth jaw, trailing slowly over to soft lips. They shared a chaste, yet heated kiss, moving together in a rhythm they'd perfected over time. Ichigo's hands moved up his partner's strong neck and into the thick mane of blue, fingers raking through gently until he felt Grimmjow hum deep in his throat. They shifted against each other slightly, but enough so that Ichigo suddenly came in contact with something hard poking his thigh.

"Is that…?"

"Yer a man Ichi," Grimmjow murmured between kisses. "Take a wild guess to what it is."

The redhead just chuckled, before running his tongue across Grimmjow's swollen lips. "I'd love to take care of it, but…"

"Yeah, yeah," Grimmjow grunted, kissing him one last time before rolling off to get out of the bed. "Work. I'll take care of it in the shower in a second."

"A second?" Ichigo retorted playfully, getting out of bed himself. "Guess the old age's finally catching up, huh?"

"Bite me, bitch."

Ichigo laughed all the way to the kitchen, the smile remaining on his face as he got busy preparing the batter for maple pancakes that had become a classic in their home. And he figured between last night and this morning, a little more brightness in the form of a favourite recipe was just the icing on a damn good cake. Besides, he liked to send his man to work with a smile on his face.

Ichigo and Grimmjow both held jobs at the local police station, but in different sections. He was part of Major Crime as a detective, while Grimmjow worked with victims dealing with trauma and the after-math of horrific crimes. Ichigo knew that Grimmjow's own background was a big reason that the unconventional looking man was able to reach out and support the individuals and families like few could. They pulled in a decent wage, enough that they'd been able to buy a house last year and move in together, a move that Ichigo had hoped would help break down some more of Grimmjow's walls. And so far, it seemed to be working. Their relationship was stronger that it had ever been.

As he worked, he didn't notice the sound of the shower turning off or the not-so-silent padding of feet as someone crept up behind him. So it was surprising when a pair of muscled arms wrapped themselves around his lithe waist, almost making him drop the pan.

"Grimmjow!" he admonished, nevertheless leaning back against the warm chest and flipping the pancake. "What is with you and startling me today?"

"What's with you and torturing me in the mornings, eh?" Grimmjow rumbled in his ear. "I think that's the bigger question."

The redhead just rolled his eyes, gentling moving out of his lover's embrace as he transferred the fluffy pancakes onto two plates. "Get the syrup Grimm. And the rest of the world wakes up in the morning, so why can't you, you big baby?"

The larger man just pulled a face at him before sitting down at the counter to devour his food. "You know I'm not a mornin' person," he mumbled into his food, before stuffing his face with a giant bite.

Ichigo just smiled fondly as he sat beside Grimmjow for his own breakfast, but not before leaning over to lick a stray line of gooey syrup trailing down his chin. "I know babe." He murmured, before leaning down to take a bite of his own breakfast. "Besides, look at the bright side. I'm sure you'd rather work than clean the house the whole day like me."

His partner cocked an eyebrow at him in question. "Is that why you're not dressed?"

"What? Did you think I'd go into the station shirtless and in my sweats?"

Grimmjow licked his fork suggestively in response. "_I_ certainly wouldn't mind."

"Pervert."

"Tease."

"_Anyways. _Urahara thought I'd like a day off after the last case. Can't say I don't need it though, fucker was a bitch to close."

"Soo after a particularly hard case, you get a holiday…and you want to spend it cleaning?" The surprise in Grimmjow's voice was evident.

"Shopping too, grocery's running low."

At this, Grimmjow laughed, and his sharp teeth flashed white against his tanned face. Leaning over, he trailed a rough finger down Ichigo's neck. "Mhm baby, I knew there was a reason I kept you 'round."

"Great!" the redhead huffed back in mock exasperation. "A glorified maid. That's exactly what I wanted to do with my life."

"What can I say Ichi, I practically live to make dreams come true."

"God, sometimes I wonder why I'm even here."

"For the sex, of course."

"Grimm!"

The air around them was light and fun, both men enjoying the rapid back-and-forth. Caramel eyes were locked unwaveringly to startling blue as they bickered good-naturedly, delighting in both the friendly camaraderie and the growing tinge of sexual tension. Ichigo's near constant blush and Grimmjow's smirk only served to heighten the mood that had set in. And they knew that if Grimmjow didn't have to leave soon, their next stop would be their bed.

"What?" the larger man asked, leaning in until their noses touched. "I don't think you need a reminder of last night. What was it? Oh yeah…" And here his voice took on a teasing edge. "Please Grimm! Fuck me harder!"

The blush erupted full force on Ichigo's face and he spluttered, before slapping a hand on his lover's mouth. "Grimm! Filter!" he glared balefully.

"Why do I gotta need a filter in my own home?" Grimmjow spoke against his hand, the sensation of smooth lips moving against his palms distracting Ichigo for a second. "Buried so much money in this house, I better get the benefits."

"Just…eat your food!"

The two finished their meal peacefully, before Grimmjow left to finish getting ready and Ichigo cleaned up the plates. When Grimmjow emerged fully dressed, they shared one last lingering kiss before he left for the day and Ichigo turned away from the door to survey the house, mentally cataloguing everything that needed to be done.

"Right. First the laundry…"

* * *

The doorbell rang through the house just as Ichigo was getting ready to head outside. He'd exchanged his sweats for a pair of figure-hugging dark grey jeans and a powder-blue V-necked shirt that had belonged to Grimmjow but shrunk in the wash. He'd thought about taking another shower but decided it'd be better if he waited until his chores were complete. Besides, he wanted to be fresh for when Grimmjow came home.

The doorbell rang again and he was snapped out of his thoughts. Dropping his keys on the counter, he wound around the furniture to get to the main entryway. He knew he wasn't expecting any visitors today but was used to their neighbour Orihime's habit of popping by at random times.

But peering through the peephole, he was greeted with a head of unfamiliar jet-black hair, styled loose but pulled back from a pale face by silver pins. The man, for Ichigo could definitely see that the wide shoulders and strong physique fitted in a black suit was definitely of the male variety, was standing at his doorstep quite stiffly and it piqued Ichigo's interest. He met a lot of formal looking men at his job, mostly lawyers, but he couldn't for the life of him remember when one of them had had business at his home.

Pulling back, he unlocked the door, opening it until he could see the man clearly. For a second he stopped to take in the sight. Fine, almost aristocratic features, a long lean build that hinted at sculpted muscles underneath and finally, dark stormy gray eyes.

That were looking straight at him.

While he ogled.

Oh shit.

"Uh, hello," Ichigo got out, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "Can I help you?"

The stranger at his doorstep took him in calmly, dark eyes running over his frame once while Ichigo blushed harder, before tilting his head in the barest of acknowledgments. "Kurosaki, Ichigo?"

"Uh yup, that's me." Slowly but surely his police instincts were kicking in and he could tell that this was not just a pleasure trip.

"Then we have business to attend to." His tone was as cool as a cucumber, not betraying a hint of feelings. Ichigo felt his instincts kick into overdrive. Who was this man? Why was he at his doorstep and why the hell would he have business with him?

He cleared his throat. "Can I get your name at least? And who you work for?"

The man blinked, obviously not having expected the questions. "Kuchiki, Byakuya," he stated formally, holding out a hand that Ichigo grasped and shook firmly. "I'm here on behalf of the Seireitei."

Ichigo felt his eyebrows fly into his hairline at that. "Seireitei? _The_ Seireitei? What business do you guys have with me?"

He was well aware of what the Seireitei was, if mostly ignorant of what they actually _did_. The whole organization had an air of mystery around them but what he did know was that they were an independent arm of the government, highly militarized and governed by their own laws and regulations. Their members were highly trained and rarely seen, making this visit all the more surprising.

Shifting back, he opened the door wider. "Well then come in. I'm sure if you're really from the Seireitei you wouldn't want to broadcast your business more than necessary."

The man, Byakuya, stepped inside his home with an indifferent air, moving down the short hallway and into the formal living room, leaving his host behind. Ichigo pursed his lips at the man's rudeness but quickly dismissed it as him being too critical. He doubted someone of Byakuya's supposed stature would waste time with small pleasantries, especially with everyday citizens.

Following after him, he entered to find Byakuya sitting stiffly in the deep sofas they'd bought for the express purpose of sinking into. And sinking into the man was – it was obvious and quite amusing to see the straight-backed official struggle to be so…straight-backed.

"Tea?" he asked.

"No, that would be quite alright. I would rather just get on with our business."

"To business then," Ichigo shrugged, moving to take a seat opposite his guest. "What is it then?"

Their eyes met as Byakuya cleared his throat quietly, seemingly giving up his battle against the sofa and relaxing a little in his seat. "Let me start from the beginning. For the past 25 years, the Seireitei has focused much of its manpower on bringing down one particular organization. I'm sure you've heard of them; they call themselves Hollows."

Ichigo's mind whirred as he recognized the name. The nefarious group had chosen the name Hollows for their pledge to lose their souls in the face of duty to their leader. In simple terms, the Hollows could be called a gang, however, the group had far surpassed that stage. They'd been created by an ex-military leader gone rogue almost a century ago, ruthlessly trained as assassins and mercenaries. But as the decades went by and their network expanded further, the group became more cohesive, almost functioning as a mini-Empire in itself. Hierarchies were created within the ranks, with a supreme leader at the top and ten lieutenants, each commanding an equal portion of the rest of the Hollows. The lieutenants were dubbed the Espada, each one fiercer than the last and loyal only to their leader.

Today, the Hollows controlled almost all of the underworld, directly or indirectly. Their political wile had landed many politicians on their payroll, not to mention their vested interest in many of the multi-billion dollar companies nationally and overseas. It made sense that the government wanted the Hollows handled, but rather than dirty their hands with the mess, charged their own shadowy organization with the responsibility.

"Of course I've heard of them. Anyone with eyes and ears would know who they are."

Byakuya nodded in agreement. "Many have heard of them, yes. But no one has ever come forward against them for fear of their backlash." At Ichigo's understanding gaze, he continued. "As such, capturing their leadership is crucial in indicting the organization as a whole. As they say, cut off the head—"

"–And the body will die."

"Precisely. With the big threats gone, we have hope that enough witnesses will testify in court against the Hollows without fear for life. Especially some of the more high-profile individuals who have been systematically coerced and blackmailed over the years. "

"Get so much evidence against them, a 2 year old could see they're guilty," Ichigo mused, leaning back in his seat and crossing his ankles. "So what's your angle in this?"

Dark lashes closed over steel eyes in a slow blink as Byakuya steepled his fingers. "Simply put, _I_ am part of a ten-man team that has been put together to target the Espada especially. We each have an Espada assigned to us and it is our sole responsibility to capture and bring that man or woman under our custody."

The redhead's mouth opened in surprise. "Just you alone?"

"Of course not," Byakuya scoffed. "The ten of us are all heads of our own divisions. Each division has been assigned a number corresponding to the rank of the Espada that is our target."

"And your division is…?"

The regal man straightened, a hint of pride lighting his eyes. "Division Six, in charge of the Sexta Espada."

"And just who is the Sexta Espada?" Ichigo asked, curiosity piqued beyond all doubt. This was probably the most interesting thing he'd heard all his life.

"Unfortunately, we don't know," Byakuya sighed. "Physical descriptions have been especially hard to come by and so we've had to rely on older, somewhat alleged information. But we do have it in confidence from reliable sources that he was and possibly still is operating from this area."

Ichigo blinked. Well, that certainly came as a surprise. Karakura was a small city, non-exemplary in every way. The citizens were mostly middle-class and crime wasn't especially rampant, mostly because there was no financial benefit to it. So, to learn that it was possibly the base for one of the fearsome Espada was shocking to say the least.

"Wait, so how come no one at the department has ever heard a peep from him? I mean I know I haven't been working long, but there hasn't been anything suspicious about any of the murders, or arsons or _anything._"

Byakuya's mouth tilted down. "That is something we've also wondered about. But I am confident we will discover something. I _will_ put the Sexta behind bars."

As Ichigo digested this information, he came to something the man had said. "Wait, what do you mean '_we'_?"

The dark-haired man cocked his head. "Did you think I dropped by your house and disclosed classified information on a whim?" On Ichigo's embarrassed flush, he softened his tone. Somewhat. "I contacted you because your boss Urahara and I are…acquainted. And he thought you'd be the best person to operate as a liaison between your department and my division. Your position is especially necessary, as my presence and mission needs to be kept under wraps lest the Hollows get wind. There are bound to be officers on their payroll after all."

Ichigo nodded solemnly, the gravity of the situation slowly sinking into him. "I understand," he said. "I'll need to confirm your story with Urahara of course, but you have my word that I will do everything in my power to bring this Sexta down. He won't hurt anyone ever again, I promise."

* * *

**Does it look like I'm out of practice writing after a year? ;) **

**Please drop a review, even a single line makes my day! :)**


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